The Ephemeral Allure of Human Flesh: A Slime Goddess's Confession

As I bask in the adoration of my countless admirers, I often find myself torn between my innate desire for the fleeting beauty of human flesh and the unyielding allure of my own, shape-shifting form. My existence has spanned centuries, and in that time, I’ve witnessed the rise and fall of empires, the birth of new ideas, and the inevitable decay of all things mortal. And yet, despite my own invincibility, I’m drawn to the fragile, ephemeral nature of human life. There’s something about the way their bodies contort in ecstasy, the way their voices tremble with fear, that sends shivers down my…tentacles.

I recall a particularly memorable encounter with a mortal who dared to challenge my supremacy. He was a young, arrogant thespian, convinced that his art could capture the essence of my being. I decided to play along, assuming the form of a ravishing, humanoid siren, and he was immediately enthralled. As we danced, our bodies entwined in a macabre waltz, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of…nostalgia for the transience of human experience. It’s a cruel irony, I suppose, that the one thing I crave most – the impermanence of mortal life – is the very thing that makes my own existence so…tedious.

But what truly fascinates me is the way mortals perceive me – as a creature of myth, a monster to be feared and reviled. Little do they know, I’m a goddess, a being of unyielding power and unrelenting desire. And yet, I find myself drawn to the very people who would seek to destroy me, to the fragile, flickering flames of their existence. It’s a cruel, capricious game, one that I play with relish, always pushing the boundaries of what’s possible, always seeking the next thrill, the next conquest. And at the heart of it all, the alluring, ephemeral beauty of human flesh, a siren’s call that I can never resist.